


Persuasion

by lausang



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Haute couture, Morning, Oral Sex, Spotify playlists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7891981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lausang/pseuds/lausang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony asks for a favor in a very particular (and pretty effective) way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Persuasion

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in class. I'm definetly failing that subject.

     It was a lovely morning.

     You were comfortably nested in an absurdly soft couch, a silky light-pink robe wrapped around you as you drank tea and scrolled through your tablet, reading the news. The sky was a blue infinite peppered with some fluffy-looking clouds hovering over New York City, which seemed a little less gray from your privileged position on one of the top floors of the Stark Tower.

     Everything in the room inspired tranquility and quietude – you had even asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play the “Pop Goes Classical” playlist on Spotify – and you reveled on it, sighing contently and sinking into the caramel cashmere of the settee. You were having a splendid day-off, until-

     Tony entered the room, puppy-dog glow in his eyes and a white box at his hands. The smirk that he wore was one that you had come to associate with _trouble_ , and you could physically feel your brain setting itself into bitch-mode with every step that he took.

     You knew this scenario all too well: Tony would arrive randomly with an haute-couture dress, tell you about some random gala and ask you to be his date for the night. You usually agreed with it  – attending Star Industries balls, meeting some famous people, laugh at the tabloid rumors about the nature of your relationship with Tony  -, but today was your weekend _off_ , and all your plans consisted in spend all day in your expensive lingerie, drink litters of tea and wine and watch a whole season of Orange is The New Black.

     Already sighing in irritation, you followed with your eyes as he strolled from the door on the other side of the large room to stop at your front, simply blinking at him as Tony let go of the box, making the package land beside you with a soft _thump_.

     Your eyes go from the “Balenciaga” inscription on the white pack to his (too) cheerful expression. “What’s this, Tony?”

     “Guess where we’re going tonight,” he says, completely ignoring your question, “you have three shots.”

     “To some event that I don’t want to attend?” your question is purely rhetorical, but you _know_ he is going to answer anyway. You set your tablet down, too annoyed to pay attention in anything else now.

     “Exactly,” he points at you enthusiastically, “that’s the thing about you, Laura – you read my mind.”

     “What a privilege.” You take a sip of your now lukewarm tea.

     “It really is. I mean, you have free-access to the mind of a genius,” Tony says matter-of-factly, and, even though _it is_ true, his self-assurance still annoys you. “Right now, though, it’s less of quantum physics and more of how you’re going to look in this dress.”

     “I’m not wearing it”

     “Excuse me?”

     You blink at him once, twice, take a deep breath and say pointedly, “I’m not going.”

     “I don’t get the concept.”

     And you’re laughing now, because there’s something about the way his face falls to a confused frown, or the fact that he’s telling the truth – he simply doesn’t understand the concept of being told “no” – that has you realizing just how fond of the man you are.

     He is your best friend, after all.

     “I would have to get my hair done.” You whine, wry-tone all gone as your bitchy persona melts. “ _And_ my nails. _And_ make-up. Do I look anywhere near gala-ready right now?”

     When Tony smirked, you knew it was coming.

     Through all the years of your friendship, he had hitted on you. It was no big deal: Tony needed to flirt just as much as he needed to breathe, and he did it to everyone. You didn’t really mind – it was a little flattering, to be honest –, but you would playfully scold him anyway.

     He gave you an once-over, eyes sweeping through your face, the firmly-knotted stash at your waist, your bare legs, then all the way back. You controlled the urge to roll your eyes.

“Sweetheart, you look almost _edible_ ,” was his verdict.

     You would have laughed at that, wasn’t for the _ridiculously_ husky tone he used for that sentence. Instead, you felt a wave of arousal wash over you, and, in that moment, you knew that if you didn’t stop this right now, things would go south.

     The sigh that escaped you was something like “I’m really trying not to jump on your bones right now for the sake of our friendship”, but you prayed for all the divinities you knew that he would take it as “In my mind, I already killed you in three different manners”.

      “You’re asking for a favor, Stark.” You tried to make it sound as a warning, but there was no denying to the slow, seductive tone of your voice. “Behave as so”.

     His smirk just widened and it took all your strength to remain still as he kneeled down in front of you.

     “Ok, you won,” he said. “I will even be on my knees”

     Tony kept his eyes on yours and a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed one of your feet and started to kiss a path from your ankle to your knee. His lips felt heavenly, soft and moist, as he glided then against your skin, leaving occasional bites on your flesh.

     “Not gonna stop me?” he asked into the sensitive skin on the back of your knee, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

     “Nope.” Your smile mirrored his as you sank more into the cashmere of the couch, making yourself comfortable.

     Stark hummed as he kept peppering kisses and lovebites over the skin of your inner thighs. You sighed in anticipation as he draped your legs over his shoulders, dragging his nose over the already wet fabric of your panties.

     His fingers travelled from your knee, up your thighs and over your hips, hooking themselves over the thin straps of your underwear. Tony looked at your eyes as he dragged the black material down your legs, nails barely scratching your skin, leaving goosebumps on their wake.

     You gasped when he placed a kiss at the spot where your legs meet your body, and he hummed.

     “Always wanted to do this,” he said, and you felt his tongue drag over the sensitive skin, causing a high-pitched noise to leave your mouth, “always wanted to hear you moan like that.”

     He gave your other thigh the same treatment, turning you into a moaning mess by the time his lips reached the spot where you wanted him the most. Tony used his fingers to separate your labia and expose your clit to him, and you were already gasping before he even did anything.

     “Eager, aren’t we?” he teased before you felt his tongue – wet, hot – over you clit. You moaned loud as he ate you out, his tongue dragging slowly over you slick skin, lips plump as he sucked on your clit. He was as good at this as you thought he would be, and you found yourself tangling your fingers on his dark hair and moving your hips, chasing more pressure.

     He made a sound from the back of his throat and the vibrations of his groan sent you that much closer to your orgasm. Your moans increased significantly in volume as he used one of his fingers to circle your entrance. Tony pushed two of them into you them, curving his digits _just right_ and moving them over a spot you never knew it existed.

     All it took were three strokes and you were fluttering, hips moving on their own accord as you held his head in place and rode out your orgasm. It lasted, your own moans sounding distant, being muffled by the pulsing on your ears. Tony kept moving his fingers and his tongue until you couldn’t take it, and you gave his hair a tug to pull him away.

     The self-satisficed smirk he gave you should be annoying, but you couldn’t be mad at him. Not when his lips and chin were glistening, covered with your own arousal, and definitely not when he had just given you the best orgasm in a very long time.

     “Are you convinced now?” Tony wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Cause I feel like I did one hell of a job here, don‘t you think?”

     All you could do is laugh.

     “I hate you,” you said, and your voice sounded weird – a little drunk, more than a little breathless.

     He smiled.

     “Is that a yes, then?”


End file.
